


only us

by aoiasahina (orphan_account)



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: "when you're tall, (just a little tho), Alcohol, Drunken Kissing, F/F, aaa ill stop w the tags now, based off of a tumblr prompt i found, holy fuck tgis is gay, no one wants to dance with you", um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:57:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10202729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/aoiasahina
Summary: veronica and hmac discuss things, and dance.(oh, and yeah, the title is a dear evan hansen songthis fic has nothing to do w dear evan hansen btw lmao)





	

It feels like this stupid fucking party could go on forever, and both girls know this.

Veronica Sawyer and Heather McNamara are sitting outside of a raging party, drinks in hand. Veronica had her graceful, long legs under her body, while Heather had her legs straight out in front of her. They chatted about topics neither Heather nor Veronica were interested in.

_So hows class? Whats your favorite band?_ Not to mention the constant gossip- the usual for girls like them.

 

But little did Veronica know, that isn't what Heather wanted to talk about.

 

Somehow, one way or another, the girls were on the topic of  _dancing._ The brunette cast a faraway glance at her beer bottle. "Yeah, I'm 5'9, y'know? Bein' tall is a turn off, I guess. No one really wants to dance with you if you're  _this_ tall." Veronica allowed a humorless chuckle to escape her lips.

 

Well, Veronica was very incorrect. Though, it may be true no  _male_ would want to dance with her, a certain female would. The music inside could be heard, its rhythmic bumping blending into Heather's own fast heartbeat. The blonde gave a short, subtle nod. Although Heather was drunk, she had a sense of right and wrong.

But, that sense was blurred, and unclear. Heather stood up.

Wide blue eyes met hazy, confused brown eyes.

"...Heather?" Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow. After taking another swig of her drink, Heather decided to allow herself to be taken away by the haziness and drunken sense of freedom.

 

"Dance with me?"

  
The question stood in the air for a few moments, hanging. Then Veronica let out a soft laugh. Heather's heart dropped. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck._ Why are you such a fuck up, Heather? 

 

"Of course!"

 

With that, Veronica stood up, grasping Heather in her arms. The shorter girl let out a squeak of surpise by Veronica's sudden actions, but she didn't complain.

  
Veronica smelled of beer, perfume, and vanilla. And Heather loved it.

* * *

 

 

Moments later, the two girls were drunkenly matching each others steps, not paying attention to anything but the others presence. 

Heather decided to pipe up once she realized the two had stopped moving. Arms around Veronica's neck, Heather glanced up.

 

"Ronnie?"  
  
Silence.

 

" _Veronica._ "

 

The brunette snapped up, tears in her eyes. "Heather- I'm so sorry-"

"For what?"

"Heather- K-Kurt... Ram."

  
Heather pursed her lips. "Why would you be sorry for that?" Heather managed to bring both girls down to sit. Veronica's head was in Heather's lap.

 

"You don't understand- oh,  _God_ , Heather! I'm so sorry-" Veronica rambled, tears leaking down her face.

 

Heather brushed away a few tears away with her thumb, and exhaled. The blonde didn't know what Veronica meant, nor did she really care at the moment. All she cared about was how she was going to get her Ronnie better.

 

"It's okay, Ronnie. I'm okay. You're okay. It's all okay." Heather knew she was sort of lying- depression still snagged at her sometimes, but she kept quiet. This was for Veronica.

  
Veronica nodded, then did the unthinkable.

 

The indescribable.

  
The  _spectacular._

 

Veronica propped herself up, and smashed her lips against Heather's, causing a squeak of surprise. Veronica's chapped lips felt good against Heather's, and she smiled softly.

 

Then Heather did the unthinkable.

  
The indescribable.

  
The  _spectacular._

 

 

The blonde broke away, smiling.

 

 

"I love you, Ronnie."


End file.
